Amelia held up her hand, catching that hint of fear she'd felt from Iya. But before she could determine its direction, the sensation vanished. "How can I look for someone? Can I do that based on a feeling? Find the owner of the feeling and figure out where they are?"
"You sift through what you feel as you are walking. It's like a game of hot and cold. At your stage though, you'll have to be fairly close." Kepsalon nodded toward a staircase. "The children will likely hide near the surface. They're afraid of the deep dark."
"I get that. I'd probably run too." As hard as it had been playing alone in that garden, at least there had been light. Amelia didn't like even thinking about going that deep into the dark. She shuddered. "All right. So what about the elmis on the backs of my knees?"
"They are extra sensory alerts to danger. But you'll feel the threat, the warnings in your chest and neck."
Amelia scowled, confused "Well that's strange. Why would I feel it there?"
Kepsalon waved his hands, laughing a little. "We don't have to talk about all the reasons, but it's simply because you aren't attuned enough. When you're more familiar with your skills, you'll feel it in your legs as well, but it's too light for you to feel there at first. It's referred up to your chest and neck and shoulders and brain. Once you can feel the elmis in the back of your knees, it will be even quicker."
Amelia stopped once more. There was that terror.
She turned to the left and continued. Here there were no pits in the pale brown walls. Numerous nooks and crevices cut into the walls on all sides. The fearful sensation increased. As before, it was strange to feel an emotion that was not deep within herself or clearly focused on another. It floated around her like a disembodied spirit. "It's all right," she called out. "I'm not going to hurt you."
No response came. Amelia held onto the tendril of the emotion though. It didn't slip away this time. She followed it farther in to a small cranny just on the other side of the corner. An incense and oil-soaked torch burned on the other side. A small boy was curled up in the corner, wrapped in a large blanket with a wooden sword. "I'm not going into the dark!" he shouted, his voice shaking.
Amelia knelt beside him and placed her hand on his shoulder. "It's all right. No one's going to make you go into the dark. There's torches. Special torches."
The boy shoved her and curled farther into the corner. "Get away from me!"
"Come on then, Oloto," Kepsalon said, his voice stern. "Your mother needs you to help protect your baby sister. I know you're afraid, but you can't hide here. Not unless you want to break their hearts."
Oloto hunched forward, his knuckles whitening from his grip on the sword. "I'm not going into the deep dark. They don't need me!"
"The torches have a very special kind of oil. They won't burn out for a very, very long time. And we won't be down there long. Now up you get." Kepsalon picked Oloto up. "If you stay up here, the Paras will find us, and if they find even one of us, they will find the rest. So if you stay up here, you will be the reason that your father, mother, and sister die."
Amelia frowned at his bluntness. But before she could speak, Kepsalon turned to her.
"Now, Amelia, the first thing you must master in mindreading is focus. But to have focus, you must have purpose to increase your chance of success. It helps to ask the question that you are trying to answer. When you are reading someone's mind, you ask the question. Surface mindreading will allow you to find the answer. Deeper mindreading provides you with more information, often the various layers of thought. And the deepest form of mindreading is the one that involves the tapestries. This is where the memory, the personality, and everything about a person is revealed. It is also the home of all manner of mental ailments and weaknesses. The spider within Matthu's head was created as a backwash, but other mental ailments often appear within the deepest areas of the mind to devour the thoughts, resolve, and restraint."
Kepsalon continued to speak swiftly as he carried Oloto back. For every explanation he gave, he rambled off additional bits of information. It was hard to keep up. But Amelia focused as best she could, committing them to memory. Once they had found Oloto's parents and returned him to them, they started back. Kepsalon had her perform small exercises, focusing on the various elmis.
"The elmis on your palms are the strongest, and they will provide the greatest variety in information. However, you should be cautious because they are the most sensitive. To make the connection and read someone's mind at your stage, you need to look into their eyes. Focus on the pupils and push into the thoughts. If you want to look someone in the eye but do not want to read their minds, focus on the iris until you are proficient in not sliding into the deep mindreading. You can make the same commands and input looking into the iris, but it is not quite as powerful as looking into the pupil."
"But what about the elmis on the small of my back?" Amelia asked, pausing. He had mentioned every other set but this one.
Kepsalon's cheeks reddened. He cleared his throat. "Well, …that's essentially…that elmi is what connects a Neyeb to her spouse. It's the sensual center and what allows for the emotional and mental connection. It's what allows you to…intimately sense your beloved. Like the elmis on the back of your legs, it will not be felt there initially. It will refer to your heart."
"Then why was Naatos touching the ones on my palms." Amelia frowned and looked at her hand. She still remembered that sharp sensation and the strangeness of the pleasure she felt. Her cheeks heated at the memory.
"Those three elmi centers work together. They require one another to work, but they are your emotional and mental center for…eros." Kepsalon cleared his throat again. "You will want to make sure that you always keep the elmi on your back covered. It's not considered proper to reveal it except in intimate situations, but more importantly it could cause problems for you. I'm afraid I don't know much about it. It was considered taboo for anyone to inquire too much on that subject."
Amelia glanced back over her shoulder, amused. "Given its location, I don't think that should be a problem."
"Good." Kepsalon cleared his throat again and continued walking. "Now, let's continue with some exercises."
Amelia's mind reeled with all of this new information. It only took them a few more hours to find the rest of the children particularly with other Machat searching for them. She wished that she could have seen Shon once more, but at the same time, she was glad that he wasn't there. The Machat and Libyshans continued with their packing. While many glanced at Amelia, some giving her dark looks and others more curious ones, none spoke to her except Kepsalon. And that was precisely the way Amelia wanted it. At least for the moment.
Once they found the rest of the children, Kepsalon took her back to the chamber above the Levthro. All of the rubble remained from the Truth Bringers' destruction. Their feet disturbed bits of dust and burned parchment with each step. "How much was lost?" Amelia asked.
Kepsalon's expression became more somber. He knelt and opened a small trap door. Reaching inside, Kepsalon lifted up a small bowl of stones like the psychic stones he had offered her in the valley. "You remember these." He picked one up between his thumb and forefinger. "These are useful also as markers. Imprint your thoughts on them with a simple command. Say the command twenty times. The best use for this is as a warning marker so that you can see where Naatos and his brothers are. If you tell it to alert you when Naatos passes by, you will receive a flash to your mind that will show you where he is and what is around him. Go to the room over there and prepare these now while I bring your supplies."
"All right." Amelia accepted the bowl. "I'll need a quill, ink, and parchment too. I imagine that the brothers will come here to the Levthro when they arrive?"
"We'll have to destroy the Levthro's chamber, I'm afraid. Disrupt the energy that channels through it. But this will be one of their prime goals. I'll get you something to eat as well. If you won't sleep, you should at least eat."
Amelia made no arguments. She didn'
t feel hunger at the moment, but it would be foolish not to eat.
Like most of the other meditation rooms she had seen, this one was plainly furnished with only one table and two chairs. It smelled like oil paints, water colors, charcoal, and parchment. Amelia pulled back the chair and sat down.
These psychic stones looked like regular river stones. Amelia picked up one and pressed it to her forehead. It was cold against her skin. "Alert me when a Vawtrian touches this." She said it over and over. The words started to twist in her mouth and mind, so she slowed down. "Don't rush it," she muttered, gripping the stone tighter but pulling it back. "Do this right." Her heart raced as the tension built within her. This was all happening far too fast. What would Naatos think when she confronted him? She had to push these thoughts back as she focused on the stones.
Kepsalon returned at various points, bringing her supplies, a satchel, books, quill, ink, parchment, and other items. He offered her a few words of encouragement as well before he left.
By the time Amelia was three quarters of the way through the bowl, her head hurt. She pushed through, only allowing herself an hour or so of rest before she ate the bread Kepsalon brought her. Occasionally, other Machat rustled and murmured outside her room, but no one disturbed her.
The hustle and bustle of the preparations soon faded. Amelia's eyes burned with fatigue, and her shoulders ached with the tension. This was such a long shot. Almost as poor as the one she had come up with when she pretended to be a Machat. But at least this time she knew more about her enemy. Time to use whatever advantage I have, she thought.
Picking up the quill, she dipped it in the silky black ink and began to write. With each word, her anxiety grew.
What would Naatos think when he saw this? Aside from, curse you, woman, another letter?
She bit the inside of her lip, a tremor of fear passing through her. He hadn't responded well to her last letter, and this one—well—it bordered on making things worse. But it would certainly get his attention, and that was what she needed.
Amelia set the finished letter aside. Rubbing her hand over her eyes, she steadied herself and continued with her preparation. The supplies Kepsalon brought her had to be sorted and organized. She packed them in the satchel, taking care to arrange them so that nothing was crushed or broken.
Now she needed to change. The new outfit was precisely what she wanted. It was a dark brown hunting gown with leggings. Braids of fabric secured the bodice to her neck, leaving her shoulders and arms bare. Amelia adjusted the neck, not certain how she felt about showing her shoulders. How can I be alluring with scars like this? she wondered. Though there were many scars, one shoulder was especially marred. It was hideous. Best not to let Naatos see that. Just the sight twisted her stomach.
No time to be self-conscious.
Amelia slid on the fingerless gloves that went three quarters of the way up her arm, fastened the flexible corset around her waist, and then put the short cloak over the top. It hid the scars while also allowing a tantalizing peek at the attire beneath.
A knock sounded on the door.
"Come in." Amelia fastened the leather thongs on the cloak.
The door slid open as Kepsalon entered. "I found these. They were almost packed away with some of the other supplies." He held up a slim pair of black slippers. "They are traditional Neyeb shoes made from orna leather. They'll give you protection without impeding your mindreading. They're made of the same material as the gloves, so you won't be at risk for cutting your elmis on the rocks."
"Thank you." Amelia tested the flexibility of the slippers. She liked the smoothness, and they easily fit her feet. It will be easier to run in these than in regular boots, she thought. "How is everything else?" She stretched her arms up and then bent to the side, testing her flexibility in the garments. So far, so good.
"The last of the supplies are being taken in. All of the children are secure. We're entering the final phases now." Kepsalon removed a loose bag from his shoulder. "This is filled with women's clothing that would be approximately your size. You can use them to make your false trails if you like."
"Good." Amelia fastened the belt around her waist. That would be useful. She slid the narrow daggers with the carved hilts into the sheaths at her side. "I have one more question. If I have to use more…up-close methods when dealing with Naatos, is he going to gain mindreading abilities?"
"If you are unwilling to grant him those abilities, it will take years of constant closeness before it will take effect. Even if you want to give it to him, it will take months. Perhaps years. But…be careful, Amelia."
Amelia shook her head, half-laughing. She fastened the thin leather bracers over her gloves. "I don't know. I've been thinking about it. Even in the worst-case scenario, Naatos won't kill me. Not until I've had at least one child. So that means I've got at least nine months to figure out an escape." She forced another laugh, but it really wasn't funny. Her stomach knotted even more as she faced Kepsalon. "I packed the books too. I appreciate everything you've given me. What about you? Are you going to hide with the others? Or will your path go elsewhere?"
"After I escort you out, I and a few other Machat will finish covering our tracks. We will need six hours before it is fully completed and the Machat are safe. Are you ready?"
"Yes." Amelia counted off her supplies silently, tapping her fingers to make sure she had everything. She picked up the letter she had written Naatos. "Could you please put this somewhere near the Levthro with five of these stones where Naatos will find it?"
"I will." Kepsalon put them inside his tunic. He then gestured toward the door. "Shall we?"
Amelia slung the satchel over her shoulder and followed him. It was happening. This was it. She swallowed hard, hoping she would be strong enough. Fast enough. Otherwise—
No…I don't even want to think about it.
Amelia and Kepsalon made their way back up to the surface. Neither said anything. A haggard weariness had settled over Kepsalon. Uncertainty gnawed at Amelia as well. If she failed in this, then thousands would die. "If Naatos has tracking animals, do you have measures in place?" she asked.
"Yes. That is one of our last acts. It will be just enough to obscure their senses. Naatos and his brothers are the greatest threat. Unlike the beasts they use, they can reason and make logical leaps that pay off. Particularly Naatos." Kepsalon pushed back the door. "Even if you can only get him to take up the chase, we stand a better chance. AaQar's mind is too consumed with death, and WroOth's tracking skills, while formidable, will be overshadowed and muddled by his emotions."
Warm afternoon sunlight and the strong fragrant wind poured through. Amelia shielded her eyes for a moment, letting them adjust to the brightness. The knots in her stomach turned over and over. "Well," she said. "This is it."
"Yes, it is." Kepsalon pointed toward a mountain with a double crescent. "When the moon looks like it's being cradled in the crescent, we will be safe. And you will not be alone for long. We have a weapon that will allow us some advantage over the Vawtrians. The Machat and the Libyshans will make their attack on the Temple of Selgooko and reclaim it after the Tue-Rah's restoration. We will be there in a matter of days. Stay strong, child. Now…" He placed his hand on her forehead, closing his eyes. "May your steps be swift, your way light, your senses sharp, and your heart strong. And in the end, may your blessings and joy far outweigh your suffering and pain. Elonumato goes with you."
Amelia bowed her head, choking up. "Thank you," she whispered. "My prayers are with you as well." Blinking away the tears, she stepped out onto the mountainside.
The stones slid a little beneath her feet, and the wind pulled and tugged against her. It was unusually strong and loud. The mountains rose up all around her, and no clear path led down. It was little more than rocky soil with coarse gravel, silver moss, and scraggly grass. Leaving a trail here would be easy, particularly for a scent-based tracker. She took a few steps down and turned to look back.
Kepsalon
lifted his hand in farewell and then pushed the door closed. It grated across the rocks before it sealed with a faint thud. It was hard to see where it had been.
A pang of loneliness and fear struck Amelia. This is it, she thought. Let's get moving.
The wind whistled across the mountain crags and peaks. It carried with it the scent of fresh grass, cold river water, mountain heather, and skelro wool. It was easy to believe that all was well here.
But the wind slowed, and other sounds rose to Amelia's ears. Grunts, clacking stones, sneezes, groans, and snarls. Naatos's army should be on the march by this time, but…
She paused, her heart spasming with fear. That sound was far too close, and it was coming from the wrong direction. She had assumed that Naatos would come from the north, south, or east. Any direction but the west because the west side of the mountain, despite being the most direct route, was a sheer drop that was almost impossible to move an army across. Yet the sound came from the west.
Running around a boulder, Amelia climbed to the top of the ledge over the door. Please don't let it be so, she pleaded. But as she peeked over the top, her chest clenched. Not only was Naatos already there, but he had found a way to make the western wall passable.
20
Secret
"Perfect." Amelia dug her fingers into the rocks as she surveyed the army below. There was so much to take in.
Thousands of Talbokian soldiers in full black chainmail were equipped with an assortment of melee weaponry. Swords, maces, clubs, staves, and more glistened in the late sunlight. If there were any archers or distance warriors, Amelia did not see them. The mercenaries stood at rigid attention in a relatively even formation. Most were in groups of approximately seventy to one hundred, and in between each group was a dozen crudons or guaras in separate cages on wheeled carts. Each cart had large polished metal loops fastened to the sides.
Enemy Known Page 17